


Kintsugi

by titC



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: "but I'm the favorite", Chloe Decker Wants Answers and Will Not Take Your Shit, F/F, F/M, Gen, Lucifer the Stylite, Maze/Linda, Mazikeen Has Had Enough Of Your Shit, Meaningful Sex Scene TM, afros and evil-twin goatees, big bro and baby bro, celestial beings A+ parenting, everyone loves Trixie, sleepy luci, slightly banged up Lucifer, the post 2x18 story you can't not do, we'll never know what dad wants will we
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 06:24:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11285505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titC/pseuds/titC
Summary: Kintsugi: the Japanese art of repaired ceramics that are all the more beautiful for having been broken, and then remade.





	Kintsugi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Antarctic_Echoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antarctic_Echoes/gifts).



> For Antarctic Echoes, just because ♥

Weeks. It had been weeks since that message, weeks since that promise to tell her everything, and then – nothing. He’d disappeared, again. But this time… this time, Chloe thought it was different. That something had happened to him – and that it wasn’t Candy-shaped. She opened Maze’s wardrobe, grabbed some clothes at random and threw them into a backpack, and drove to the hospital.

Maze’s text about Linda being hurt had felt like a punch in the gut – what had happened? Maze wasn’t telling – and Chloe hadn’t had the heart to ask her to leave the tiny, sterile, so so white hospital room to hunt her wayward partner. And so here she was, a month after Lucifer had disappeared, a month after Linda had ended up in hospital, a month since Maze had refused to leave her bedside, a month of ferrying necessities to her roommate and trying not to unravel entirely.

After he didn’t show up, she waited for a day – sent a few messages, left a few voicemails. Nothing. She’d finally asked Ella and Dan to help before filing a missing person report. She could see Dan didn’t quite believe she should worry right until they found his car, parked next to the hospital. The station’s computer tech, Asagi, had tracked his phone; and they’d found it by the roadside along with his jacket, a strangely torn, bloody shirt, his belt and his shoes. It wasn’t just one of his I’m-scared-of-these- _thing_ _s_ -in-me disappearing acts. They learned his accounts hadn’t been accessed since he’d vanished, contrary to when he’d gone to Vegas. His brother seemed pretty worried too, but he didn’t know anything. No one did.

She quite vividly, too vividly remembered her own recent stays in that very hospital. A gunshot wound, a poisoning – she’d never been so close to death before Lucifer came into her life. She’d really been hoping for that explanation he’d promised, too. And instead, it was just one more mystery on top of the others. She suspected Linda knew more than she let on, and worse, that what had happened to her was somehow linked. Everything was, Chloe thought. Charlotte Richards’s unnatural amnesia and Perry Smith’s unsolved disappearance and Linda’s unhealing wounds and Lucifer’s scars and bullets plucked out of the air… She sometimes caught herself believing him, believing his talk of angels and devil. But he’d bled when she’d shot him, and he’d been burned by fire in the restaurant’s kitchen.

She sat next to Maze and handed her the bag, and Maze shook her head when she raised her eyebrows. No change, then. Linda wasn’t dying, she wasn’t getting any better either. Maze didn’t seem that surprised, just… dimmed. She did smile when Chloe stuck a drawing on the door, however. Trixie had drawn her favorite people and on learning Chloe was about to visit a sick friend in the evening, had handed it to her. “Hospital rooms are too gray, mom,” she’d said. Her poor monkey had visited them too often, lately.

Maze stood up to look at it more closely, and seemed to approve. There was someone with dark hair and red horns in what looked like Lucifer’s Corvette (Chloe had managed to swallow her squawk at the horns, but just), Trixie herself grinning in the driver’s seat, Maze with knives in her hands and, somehow, her face cut in half between her usual golden brown and a more gruesome one – “it’s her Halloween mask!” she’d said, but her sly little monkey had looked a bit too knowing while saying that. Then there was Dan with a (probably chocolate) cake in his hand, and for some reason Amenadiel with huge gray wings – “he was your guardian angel in the hospital, mommy” – and Chloe herself in the center, gun in hand and wearing a long red dress.

“I’m staying for now, if you want to get out for a bit. You should.”

“I don’t want to leave her,” Maze whispered back.

“She’s asleep, and if she wasn’t she’d be the first to say you can’t stay here 24/7. You know this.” Maze looked very small and thin and fragile, like she never did. “I’m staying with her, we’ll be fine. I’ll call you if there’s any need.” She pushed her towards the door. “Go.”

Finally, she stopped resisting and, after a last glance at Linda, stepped into the brightly lit corridor. When she closed the door behind her, the room was plunged into semi-darkness again; only lit by the street lamps from outside and what light came through the little glass pane on the door.

She settled more comfortably in the padded chair and closed her eyes. She wasn’t planning to sleep, but letting her mind wander sounded good after a long week – yet another week without her partner, yet another week of worried looks and awkward pats and Ella’s hug attacks. She missed his weird tangents that somehow led her to a clue or gave her a new angle, and the latest case was giving her trouble. Maybe a bit of woolgathering would help, in between her bouts of anger and constant uneasiness about it all. She’d been so happy when she first heard his message – at last, answers. Truth. Moving forward, wherever that led. Then disappointment when he didn’t show up, then apprehension. And now, she didn’t know what to feel anymore.

With a sigh, she tried to clear her mind of him and focus on something else.

 

She absolutely hadn’t been sleeping. A light doze, at worst. Still, when she half-opened her eyes at the slight squeak of the door handle and saw it wasn’t Maze, she felt extremely awake all of a sudden. Her hand was on her gun holster before she was aware of moving.

Whoever it was, though, they didn’t seem to be a threat. They were wearing some sort of long habit, like a monk’s, maybe. It was hard to tell in the low light.

“Linda,” he whispered, and Chloe’s heart was suddenly in her mouth.

He sat on the edge of the bed, watching her sleep. He hadn’t seen Chloe sitting in a dark corner, focused as he was on the slight figure under the thin covers. Chloe made herself as small as possible, and drank him in. Her own eyes were by now used to the dimness and not the harsh hallway lighting, and she could see that he was wearing sandals, that he was strangely hunched. His hair looked longer than she’d ever seen it, and his usual stubble had turned into a definite beard. All in all, he looked like he hadn’t used razor, scissors or comb since he’d vanished.

He was quiet, and bizarrely for him not even fidgeting. Maybe he was tired, she thought; because his posture was far from his usual straight-backed one. The shoulders were somewhat curled, his head hanging forward a bit. She still couldn’t look away.

After a while, Linda stirred, blinked. She made a little sound of surprise when she saw who it was that made her mattress dip so.

“Hello,” he said.

“You’re back!” Her voice was a bit gravelly from having just woken up.

“Well, of course I am. I’ve got something for you, too.”

“Did you see Maze? Chloe? Your brother?”

“Well no, I’ve just arrived from – what?”

“Everyone is so worried, Lucifer!”

“Worried? Nothing could keep me down for very long, doctor; you know that.” His voice was slightly manic; he sounded like he did sometimes when he was hiding something or when he was under stress.

“You’ve been away for a month!”

That shut him up. Chloe could see his jaw working. He hadn’t known. How could he not know? “What’s the date? And why are you still here, then? Shouldn’t you be resting at home after a month?” Linda waved at the table next to the bed, and he picked the newspaper and stared at it for a long moment. “I didn’t know,” he whispered.

“What happened to you?”

“Well, I… well.” He gently ran a knuckle on her cheek before sticking his hand in the folds of his habit and extracting something from, she assumed, a pocket. “But first, I brought you something. You need it even more than I thought, if it’s been that long.” He stood and bent to kiss her forehead, and dropped something right where his lips had touched her and…

The door burst open and Maze rushed in surrounded by a bright halo of neon light, knives in hand. “Get away from her, you – Lucifer!?” The daggers clattered on the floor and she threw herself at him, and until she changed direction at the last second to help Linda sit up in the bed Chloe wasn’t sure whether she was about to hit him or hug him. Maze probably didn’t know herself but, to be honest, she wasn’t the hugging kind anyway. “What – Linda, you’re better?” She turned to Lucifer again. “How…?”

“How do you think?”

“Did you get a feather? Did you fight one of your brothers or sisters?” She looked weirdly excited at the idea.

“No, Maze, I didn’t fight – oh.” As he’d turned to talk to Maze, his eyes had finally fallen on Chloe.

She felt as tongue-tied as he looked. “Hi,” she finally croaked.

He fell back heavily on the bed, his eyes still on her. “I… so.”

She felt he’d just used all the words she could think of at the moment. She racked her brain to find some new ones. “I got your message.”

His lips parted and closed again. “I meant it,” he finally said.

“Do you still?”

“I wish I could say yes, Detective, I do.” Oh. Oh no. Not again. “I just don’t know what the truth is anymore.” Chloe thought she could hear the sound of her hopes shattering like so much fragile china smashed on cold, merciless tiles. She wasn’t sure she could be even more precious for having been broken, either; in spite of what Asagi claimed.

“You could start by telling us where you were and why you look like… like that,” Maze said.

“Like what?”

“Like you’ve just spent a month on a column in the desert sun.”

He looked down at himself, plucking the fabric of his habit between the tip of two fingers. “I’ll admit it’s a far cry from my best suit. Lucifer the Stylite, though. It does have a ring to it, don’t you think?” His lips twitched upwards, but he looked smaller, Chloe thought. Smaller every minute, like a hyperactive child suddenly hit by sleepiness. “How are you feeling now, doctor?”

“I… uh, surprisingly fine. Tired, but the good kind of tired.”

His smile widened until he hissed and wiped a drop of blood from his mouth. “I’ll leave you in Maze’s hands, then. I’m sure she’ll be much more gentle with you than she’d be with anyone else.” He stood up, wobbling a bit. “I should get back to the penthouse and clean up, really.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Your Corvette is back at Lux, how are you planning on getting there? Fly?”

A strangled sound came from Maze’s direction. “Lucifer…?”

“Well, I…”

“I’m driving you there, and I’m not leaving until you tell me what you were supposed to tell me a month ago and you explain whatever’s different now.”

“Nothing and everything, Detective. I promise, I’ll try my best to make everything clear, but…”

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Maze’s voice was rather cold.

“I got over it,” Linda said. “I’m sure you and Chloe will be fine.”

“I need to know. Whatever it is. You promised.”

“Eyes wide open, isn’t it how you put it, Doctor?”

“It is. Off you go now, I’m not up to doing therapy on you at the moment.”

Linda was almost melting on the pillow by now, and it was only then that Chloe realized how tense she’d been before. She remembered Maze saying she’d refused some pain meds, although she didn’t know why… but then again, there were many things she didn’t know about Linda’s past. Still, whatever Lucifer had done, she wasn’t feeling pain anymore – one more mystery to add to the long list of things to explain, then.

“All right. Call if you need anything, yeah?”

Lucifer stumbled when she caught his arm, the rough, dark fabric of his habit flaring around his legs. It was a bit ridiculous, and Chloe smiled. She felt lighter, somehow.

 

She glanced at him as she drove through the night-time traffic, noting the dark circles under his eyes, his frankly unwashed look – at least he didn’t smell too rank, but there was no hint of his usual warm, comforting cologne. As they’d walked through the hospital, she’d noticed the stains on the rough, coarse wool, the dust that covered his feet. He really looked like a desert hermit, and that was so far from the Lucifer she knew she almost wondered if he had a twin – all bets were off regarding which one was the evil twin, though. She tried to imagine him with a goatee, maybe with one of those ridiculous gold sashes like in that old Star Trek episode. She chuckled and, as she waited for the light to turn green, turned to tell him about it; but – he was asleep. His head had fallen against the door, and she didn’t have it in her to wake him up when he looked so exhausted. It could wait until they were parked, at least; because she sure as hell wasn’t carrying him to the elevator. Well, maybe she could drag him by a leg or an arm.

She wasn’t very surprised when she found his brother leaning against a Bentley in the underground parking lot, obviously waiting for them.

“Maze called me,” he said when she got out of her car.

“Oh, well. That’s good.” She waved a hand at Lucifer, still in the car. “He fell asleep on the way here. I’m just going to wake him up.”

He peered inside. “He looks dead to the world. Don’t bother, I’ll carry him.”

Amenadiel was no weakling, but Lucifer was a big guy. “Are you sure?”

He opened the door and gently slid his arms under his brother. “I often carried him to bed when we were young. He would go on and on and on pretending he wasn’t tired, until he crashed.” He wrinkled his nose as they stepped in the elevator. “Might dump him in the bath first this time, though.”

She couldn’t believe he hadn’t stirred yet, but maybe a small, childlike part of him was still comforted by his big brother’s embrace. Well, he’d probably wake up when Amenadiel turned the water on – probably cold water first, because they were that kind of brothers, frankly.

She blew out a breath when the doors opened. It was always a relief not to see covers over the furniture. She suspected that last time he’d planned on staying away for longer than two weeks because the sheets were overkill for a fortnight, but then again this was Lucifer. He didn’t know the meaning of overkill.

Chloe headed for the kitchen while Amenadiel made for the bathroom. She felt coffee might be needed tonight, because – fine – he might need sleep but she wouldn’t let him catch any sort of serious shut-eye before she had _some_ answers. She heard Amenadiel’s low baritone, heard a door open and the sound of heavy fabric thrown on the floor, then his voice was muffled again.

She almost dropped the water jug at the loud crash and yell that came from the bathroom. She rushed there and threw the door open and – well. She hadn’t expected _that_.

Lucifer had backed in the corner opposite the shower, wide-eyed and shivering, his naked body covered with bruises and blisters, the skin peeling here and there. Water was dripping from every surface, and the floor-to-ceiling mirror and several tiles on the walls were cracked.

He’d cracked them. With the giant, trembling wings that sprouted from his back and were raised above his head, half-protective and half-aggressive… well, how could she tell the difference, really? She was a cop, not a bird behavior specialist. Well, Lucifer wasn’t a bird, she was. Right? Hah hah. No – no, get a grip, Decker. Get a grip.

He slowly straightened, tucking his wings as much as possible behind him and looking somewhat sheepish.

“Luci, how…?”

Chloe wasn’t sure she’d have worded it differently, because, yes: how? _How_ was a perfectly good question.

“I… you startled me!”

That’s when she noticed the water was still running in the shower. She went to shut it off (and yes, the water was icy), brushing past Lucifer on the way. He shrank a bit from her. “Did you try to wake him up with a cold shower?”

It was Amenadiel’s turn to look a bit guilty. “I wasn’t expecting…” He waved a hand.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting those when I woke up in the desert either, believe me!” He put a hand against the wall, as if he needed the support. Must have been quite the adrenaline rush. “Aw, now I have to redo the bathroom. You’re paying, brother.”

“Fine. But how…?”

“I don’t _know_!”

Amenadiel opened his mouth, but she didn’t feel up to their bickering right now. “Look, you’re going to have that shower, _you’re_ going to find some food, and then we’ll have that talk, all right?” She looked back at Lucifer, and he was leaning more and more heavily against the wall. “Do you need help?”

His eyes were fixed on her. “You’re… you’re all right?”

“I’m not the one who looks like they’ve been left out to bake in the sun after a beating.”

He almost smiled – halting the movement when blood welled up again on his cracked lips. “That’s quite an apt description,” he said. “But, I meant…” The wings shook a little, and water droplets landed everywhere. “I meant…”

“Yeah.” She got it, she got what he meant. Wings blah angel blah devil god blah blah heaven hell blah. All true, apparently – oh, and Maze and Amenadiel… and what about Charlotte? Damn. The worst thing was that she wasn’t as shocked as she should be. Well, her mutant-or-ET late-night theories were not that shot down, after all, right? If you looked at it in a certain way. Somehow. “Later. I’m trying not to think beyond, ‘this actually makes more sense than everything else’ and not as far as ‘but it really doesn’t,’ so please let’s leave it at that for now.” He wasn’t even blinking, drinking her in as a thirsty man lost in the desert and – ah. “Amenadiel, can you help him? I’ll bring back some water. You look like you need it.”

She turned and walked out, her mind focused on – kitchen. Glass. Water. While she was there, she looked into his cupboards. Maybe there was some canned soup or crackers or something he could eat without making himself sick? If he actually needed to eat. What did she know? He looked thinner, or maybe that was just an illusion because of the, the wings. She wondered what their span was, how powerful they’d have to be to allow him to fly – if he could? Or could they fly without wings, were they just for looks? What did she know about, well, angels? Did the law of physics apply to them, after all? Why would they? But then again, for all the weirdness around them, none of them had ever shown what she’d have expected from angels and demons. Or maybe they had, a bit? Bullets caught midair, Charlotte Richards’ (or whoever that was) callousness and disregard for basic humanity, but also Maze taking Trixie trick-or-treating on Halloween and Amenadiel’s earnest but at times clueless attempts at fitting in…

She was still lost in her thoughts, one hand on a can of tomato soup and another on a bottle of water, when Lucifer shuffled in. He stopped a few feet away from her, looking at her warily. “Detective?” He was wearing something very un-Luciferish, a long fluffy bathrobe (at least it was black) and – she tried to stifle her snickers but wasn’t entirely successful – even fluffier slippers. He looked down at himself, then back at her. “Usually keep those for guests, but my brother seemed to think they were what was needed, so…”

“Well, you look comfy.” And it sort of went with the beard and hair at the moment. She looked at his shoulders; they looked… normal, if a bit hunched.

“Ah. You’re, er, wondering where they’ve gone.”

Well, yeah, she was. But he still didn’t look quite steady on his feet, and she finally shook herself and gestured at a chair. “Grab a seat, I’ll warm something up for you.” He didn’t move, though. “Lucifer?”

Finally, he tilted his head. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” She started hunting for a saucepan and a spoon.

“ _This_.” He waved a hand around. “The food and the, the being  nice? Do you… do you want something? A favor? A deal?”

She thumped the saucepan she’d found on the table. “I want you to sit down before you fall on your face and stop saying stupid things.”

“But…”

“Luci, you’re being a child. Well, you’re always being a child.” Amenadiel dropped the bin bag he was carrying to push Lucifer into a chair. “Sit before you fall, brother.”

“Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.” He glared at his brother. “You know how it is.”

“Yes, ha ha, clever.”

Chloe kept an ear on their conversation as she opened the can and poured the soup to heat it. As she fiddled with the coffee machine, they moved on to: criticizing the numerous fancy hair products stashed in the bathroom, Lucifer mocking his brother’s _lack_ of hair, Amenadiel scoffing at _someone’s_ inability to do a close shave, Lucifer ridiculing overly-precise goatees…

“What’s in that bag?” She finally asked.

Two heads swiveled. “The habit and sandals he was wearing.”

“Oh! That reminds me. I’ll have to send them some money.” He made to stand up but Amenadiel’s hand fell, heavy and immovable, on his brother’s shoulder.

“Who?”

“The monastery where I, ah, borrowed these.”

“Stole.”

“I’m going to pay them back!”

“Lucifer.”

“And I was naked! Well, mostly naked. Couldn’t walk around looking like – well.”

“So, what happened?” Chloe set a bowl and a spoon in front of him and he frowned at her, looking confused again. “It’s soup, Lucifer. It was in your kitchen, I presume you know how it works.”

“I, um. Thank you?”

Amenadiel looked into the fridge, sighed and rummaged into the freezer. “Ah, vanilla ice cream!” Lucifer choked on his soup. “What? I like vanilla.”

“I imagine you do, yes.”

“It’s _your_ freezer.”

“I don’t keep things only for me, brother. This was for – er.”

Chloe raised her eyes from her coffee. “For?” He looked embarrassed. “Candy?”

“Um.”

“Is that even her real name?”

“Yes. Detective, I…” His spoon was going in circles in the red soup. “Really, I don’t know where to start.”

“Well, what were you going to tell me when you disappeared?”

He snorted. “Everything. But I hadn’t yet decided on where to start either, back then.”

Amenadiel shrugged. “Well, part of it is out of the way, what with you getting your wings back.”

“And it all raises so many more questions. I suppose I should ask Maze – say, brother, speaking of getting back things, did you try again?”

“Try what?”

“I can – I could, back when I was still our father’s warrior, slow or stop time. Before I fell.” His spoon made a little clink against the ceramic of his own bowl. “When we found Linda in her office, she was in bad shape, and there was no way we could take her to a hospital in time, and so I… I tried, and it worked again. Maze ran to the hospital.”

“Ran?”

“Everything but us celestials is frozen, Detective. The sun in the sky, traffic in the streets. Everything.”

“That’s when you ended up on the beach with your mother, right? One moment on the pier, the next on the sand.”

“Yes.”

“You sent mom away, didn’t you.”

“What else could I do? Let her start another war? Let her feud with dad destroy everything, kill everyone? I couldn’t. In the end, I couldn't. I know you won’t forgive me but – ”

“You did the right thing, Luci.”

“I – what?”

“You did the right thing. I wish I could have said goodbye, but you did what you had to. She was losing it.”

“She was losing many _its_ , yes.” Chloe felt at sea, but Lucifer must have seen her face. “I managed to send her to another universe. She won’t come back. Oh, that reminds me, brother. I kept your necklace, it’s – where did I put it?”

“I found it in the clothes you stole.”

“Borrowed.”

“Stole.”

“Bought, I just haven’t paid them yet.”

“Stole. But thank you.” He tugged it from under his shirt and his face softened as he looked at it.

“Don’t say it.”

“I don’t even need to. You _know_ it.” He glanced at Chloe’s raised eyebrows. “However…”

“Fine. My brother wants you to know he is our father’s favorite.”

“I thought it was – I mean.”

“Yes, well. Everyone thinks so, and yet here I am, the devil, forever burned by his fall.”

“It’s a bad sunburn, but you’ll recover.”

“Oh, the true face of the devil is much, much worse than that.”

“Luci…”

“No, I think I promised her the truth. She should know it all before making any kind of decision, right?”

“Know what?”

Lucifer pushed his empty bowl away from him. “All that I am, Detective. You’ve only seen the good bits or rather, I’ve never let you see the worst ones.”

“You mean, apart from your occasional death wish, impulsive behavior, and frequent bouts of selfishness?”

“Ouch. She knows you well.” Amenadiel sounded particularly gleeful, and Lucifer made a face.

“Apart from that, yes.” He looked down. “I _am_ a monster. I look like what I’ve done, under this face you know.”

“I remember seeing another one, though. I thought I’d imagined it, what with all that devil talk we’d had just before in the car, but… the day I shot you in the leg, I saw your face reflected on something, except it wasn’t your face.”

“What did you see? What did it look like?”

“Well, like worse burns than you have now. And the eyes were different, more… luminous?”

“ _Luminous_? Detective, the word you’re looking for is  hellish, or perhaps terrifying; not _luminous_!” His breathing had picked up, and she could see his shoulders trembling.

“Brother, be careful. You’re going to break something again.” The overhead light fizzled and died. “Luci.”

There was a scraping sound as a chair was violently pushed back, and she heard the balcony doors slide open. She followed Amenadiel out of the kitchen and yes, there he was, the bathrobe and slippers thrown to the floor and his naked back smooth and unmarred. As she stepped closer, she saw the skin was sort of rippling. He was panting, bent over the railing and clutching the glass panes like his life was falling apart and he was drowning and he needed something, anything. But the tempered glass was already cracking under his fingers, and she could hear his gasped “no, no” between every harsh breath.

Amenadiel caught her by the arm when she made to go to him. “Don’t. He’s dangerous to you right now.”

“He’d never hurt me.” Well, not intentionally, at least.

“He’d do anything to keep you safe, yes; but right now I don’t think he’s controlling much. Especially… that,” he added as a wall of feathers suddenly hid Lucifer from them, knocking a low table and a small potted tree down.

“Yeah, I see your point. Well, now that they’re out…” Chloe was careful as she came closer. Strangely enough, the only light there was came from the wings, a soft glow that showed her the way; but from behind them she could still hear his voice, low and rough. “Lucifer?”

“I didn’t want them back, you know.”

“Are you upset that they are?”

“I don’t know what they mean, I don’t know what my father wants from me again, I just…” His voice broke. “He manipulates all of us, and you, Detective, _you_ …”

“Me?”

“Luci, father giving you back your wings might just be a gift. I know you don’t believe he’d give you something with no strings attached, but…”

“Why not you? He _took_ them away from you!”

“No, seriously. What about me?”

Lucifer folded wings and body to sit on the floor, wrapping them around himself and his arms around his knees. His eyes were unfocused, staring at the night sky where the city lights reflected on the few clouds there were. “He sent my brother here to bless your mother so she could conceive you,” he whispered. “What choice do you have?”

“What do you mean, what choice do I have?”

“Father made you possible, but… what else did he decide for you?”

“Well, what did he decide at all, if he only made things possible?” He turned his head to stare at her.

She reached out to touch a wing, slowly, carefully; and he didn’t move. She looked at her fingers skimming the feathers, timidly at first and them more daring, her whole palm sliding over them, her fingers firm. His blinks grew slower and slower until he was practically asleep, his head pillowed on his crossed arms.

“I’ll get him to bed,” Amenadiel said. “As I said, wouldn’t be the first time.”

“You’re not carrying me,” Lucifer mumbled. He vaguely tried to stand up when his brother tugged on his wrist but only managed to stumble into his wide chest, probably unbalanced when his wings disappeared… somewhere. Chloe tried not to laugh, seeing him as uncoordinated as any tired baby, human or animal, she’d every seen. Finally they set off for the bedroom and miraculously – hah – didn’t fall when Lucifer couldn't sort his limbs out once they reached the stairs.

“You’re a good big brother when you want to be,” she said once the devil was basically snuffling in the pillow he was clutching to his face. _Was it a feather pillow?_ she idly wondered.

Amenadiel smiled, fond and exasperated at the same time. “He’s the worst baby brother of the family.” But one that shouldn't ever need a night light, she mused. “Do all wings glow in the dark like his did earlier?” she asked as they went back to the kitchen.

“No, only his. Looks like he can’t control them much yet.”

Lightbringer, she remembered. The morning star. “Maybe he doesn’t want to.”

“He was the best flier, you know. Out of all of us, he was the fastest, the most precise, the most elegant. The most reckless, too. We were all jealous, and he was of course terribly proud. When I learned he’d cut them off…”

“Yeah.” She wasn’t sure she understood, but it was the best she could offer. Still, something still bothered her. “Hey, how come his wings aren’t wet? I guess they’re not easy to dry, after a shower.”

“He vanished them just after you left the bathroom. I guess he didn’t want me touching them.”

“But he let me.”

“He did.”

Chloe wasn’t sure she could, or wanted to, fathom what it meant.

 

She was still hesitating on whether to go back home for the rest of the night or not when her phone buzzed. It was Maze. _Linda left hospital_ , it said. _Will bring_ _u_ _stuff in the morning. Don’t leave him._ She thought for a minute, then answered _Thx. Say hi to Linda. Bring Aloe Vera gel_.

Well. If she were honest, she hadn’t needed much encouragement to stay. Now, she just had to find where to sleep; she thought as she put her phone back on the low table. Not that the couch wasn’t comfortable, but she didn’t quite feel up to a night on leather. Ew.

“You staying tonight?”

“Yeah. Just got a text from Maze. She’ll be by tomorrow.”

“How is Dr Martin?”

“Just left the hospital. Whatever Lucifer did, it worked.”

“Feather,” he said.

“Huh?”

“He gave her a feather. They have the power to heal. That’s how Maze saved my life, you know. I’d been stabbed with a demon blade, but she’d kept one from his old wings. She used it on me instead of to go back to hell.”

“She’s a big softie. Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

“You should see her with my daughter. I’ve got proof,” she added as she picked her phone up and started to rifle through her pictures folder.

They spent some time looking at them all. Maze and Trixie baking a cake (Trixie did most of the baking), Maze asleep with Trixie on the couch, Maze letting Trixie do her make-up… Here and there, there were also some of Dan or her mother with their daughter, Ella using a little electric saw as a makeshift mic in her lab or demonstrating how a bat’leth would work on a slightly-wide-eyed Lucifer.

“Maze sent me this video, too.” She’d made sure Lucifer would honor his driving lessons deal with her little monkey, and she’d filmed it all – probably as blackmail material. She could hear Maze’s voice, tinny in the phone’s speakers, encouraging Trixie and threatening Lucifer at the same time. Her daughter was sitting on his lap in the driver’s seat and she was grinning and holding the wheel, and he looked both horrified and fond. They were in some sort of empty lot, somewhere Chloe didn’t recognize; and her little girl was having the time of her life as he drove the car slowly and let her turn left and right, in circles and figures of eight and even in a mostly straight line once or twice.

“He let your daughter drive his Corvette?”

“Can’t quite believe it either, and yet there’s evidence right here.”

“Well, I suppose he’s done worse for you.”

“I hope he’ll tell me, one day.”

Amenadiel let his head fall back on the on back of the couch and looked at the ceiling. “Hopefully. I do believe Linda is helping him, but… stubborn is still his third name.”

“Third?”

“Ask him.”

“I will.”

A loud thud and a cut-off shout had them run to the bedroom. Chloe would have smiled, seeing Lucifer on the floor and his limbs tangled in the silk sheets. She’d have smiled, seeing his wings out again but caught in the fabric and quivering – at the indignity of his position, most likely. She’d have smiled, but she didn’t, because this wasn’t her usual Lucifer or even the peeling, blistered and scraped one of tonight. No, this was a skinless, fire-eyed, hairless Lucifer with the wings of an angel; blinking in the sudden light pouring in from the living room and looking as surprised as he had every right to be, suddenly finding himself on the cold and hard floor tiles of his bedroom.

“You know, when Trixie’s having a restless night, I usually give her some warm milk and let her have a night light.”

He struggled a bit more against the sheet. “I am not a child,” he said as sullen as any grumpy, huffy child could be.

“Luci, you were and are the worst in all of creation.”

“Am not.”

Chloe intervened before they degenerated into some epic brotherly sniping contest. “Need some help?”

“I’m trying to get out without tearing the silk,” he mumbled.

She got down on one knee and untucked the corner that was stuck under him. “There. Come on, up,” she added as she held out her hand.

He took it, his long (red) fingers curling around hers and a smile – the artless, genuine one he kept just for her unmistakable even on this face – forming on his lips. Until it turned into a frozen grimace when his eyes fell on their hands, and he tried to jerk his away. She held on, tightening her grip.

“Luci,” Amenadiel said in a low, soothing voice. “Luci, no one cares here.”

She tugged gently on his arm and he rose to sit on the mattress, the wings turning into a translucent afterimage before fading out entirely. “I didn’t really want to show you,” he mumbled. “Although it’s what I’d planned to do.”

“I’d sort of seen it before, remember?”

“Not quite the same. Can you turn off the light?”

Amenadiel went to the nearest switch and they were back in a warm, intimate gloom. “Why are you not turning back, then?”

They heard the rustle of fabric as Lucifer settled back in bed. His voice was low and slow when he spoke again. “When I woke up in the desert…” An inhale, an exhale. “When I woke up in the desert, I didn’t understand what had happened. How I’d ended up there. Why I was suddenly covered with burns, but mild ones; why I suddenly had my…” He sighed. “My wings back.” Chloe sat on the bed, and she felt Amenadiel move to the foot, probably to sit in the armchair there. “And I couldn’t call up this face. My true face.”

“It’s not your true face, brother. No any truer, anyway.”

“I don’t know anymore. I couldn’t call it back to the surface again, and I wondered if father had forgiven me, and now I’m stuck with it and I can’t…” His voice broke. “I’m too tired, brother. I’m too tired of everything. Trying to understand, trying to control anything, anything at all… I don’t know, I can’t… I can’t anymore.”

“You should try to get some rest. Exhaustion doesn’t help.” Chloe skimmed a hand over the bed until it met resistance. It was his arm. She ran careful fingers up to his shoulder, wrapping them around his biceps. She could feel the scars, his rough, unhealed skin. “Am I hurting you?”

He turned on his side and ended up closer to her. “Don’t stop,” he said. “Please.”

Little by little, the skin smoothed out under her palm, his breath on her knee slowed, she felt hair come back on his head.

Amenadiel left a candle burning in the room as she went to Maze’s old apartment for the remainder of the night.

 

Chloe woke up late the next morning. The sun was already high in the sky and warming her skin through the window. She checked her phone, but the battery was dead; so she slipped into the clothes from the day before and took the stairs to the penthouse.

Smells of coffee and food almost made her run up the last few steps, but she was still rubbing sleep from her eyes and decided not to start the day with a twisted ankle or worse. Maze’s voice was coming from the balcony and she followed it after plugging her phone in.

“Morning,” she said with a nod at Amenadiel and Maze.

“Hey, Chloe. Left your things by the bathroom.” She looked very proud of herself, in the am-I-getting-this-friend-thing-right way she had sometimes – sadly, never when it was about cleaning the bathroom or doing the dishes. She was certainly doing several things right today, Chloe decided when a mug of coffee found its way in her hands.

“Thanks. How’s Linda?”

“She’s fine. Better than fine, really.” Her grin grew wider. “I checked.”

“We get the idea, thank you,” Amenadiel said. Chloe wondered if he’d ever got over his crush and was just a bit of a prude, of if he was still carrying a torch. “Thanks for bringing breakfast.”

“Well, since I was already stopping for Chloe’s gooey plant paste…” She gestured at the bar where she’d left the giant bottle of aloe vera gel. “What’s it for?”

“It’s good for burns. I thought, you know.”

“I don’t think it’s the same kind as when your daughter touches a hot pan,” Amenadiel said gently.

“It still feels nice.”

“We should wake him up.” Maze stood up and started to go back inside before stopping and turning to look back at them. “You coming?”

They followed her to the bedroom. Lucifer was still asleep, facing away from them, the sheets mostly kicked away from him and baring the blisters and peeling skin to their eyes. Maybe even soft silk was irritating, Chloe thought. Maybe the candle hadn’t been enough to let him sleep peacefully. But his back was scar-free, and Maze made a tiny sound. “So it’s true,” she whispered. “He’s got them back.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not cutting them off again. _Never_ again.”

He stirred, turned on his back and stretched with a little moan and a wide yawn, rubbing a fist on his eye. Chloe smiled, thinking of the boy he must – he could have been, once. She’d have to ask; something to add to the many questions that ricocheted in her mind.

“Brother, you perv; how long have you been watching – oh, hello, Maze. Detective.” He sat up and bunched the sheet in his lap; more to give his hands something to do than to cover himself, Chloe guessed. He’d never been modest.

“There’s coffee and breakfast waiting,” she said.

“And I want to know what happened,” Maze added. His lips parted. “Yes, she’s fine, but I’m not thanking you because it’s your fault anyway. You should have gotten rid of your mother right from the start, and we’d have avoided all of this.” He blinked and shut his mouth.

“Can we keep the fighting for after breakfast?” Amenadiel said. “I’m hungry.”

Lucifer didn’t manage to catch the silk robe Maze threw at him before it fell on his head, and Chloe laughed out loud at his indignant expression when he put it on and glared at Maze. She ignored it like a queen, and turned on her (high) heel to, from the sounds of it, bang some plates together.

 

After they’d demolished the piles of croissants, Maze had made them all mimosas and Lucifer had migrated to his piano. His fingers were running over the keys as if reuniting with a friend they’d thought lost forever, not making any sound yet. Chloe remembered the one down in Lux had been destroyed, and wondered how he felt about that. She suspected he cherished the moments they’d spent side by side on the bench at least as much as she did. Perhaps more.

She crossed her arms on the black, glossy top and looked at his hands. “Your brother said you didn’t let him touch your wings.” He kept his eyes on the notes that echoed only in his head. “Do you need help to clean them?”

His fingers stopped moving. “Are you volunteering, Detective?” He looked up. “You’d probably end up all wet. Not that I’m complaining, you understand. But…”

“I’m sure we can manage. Or you can ask Maze if you’d rather.”

He shuddered. “No. No, not Maze.” She thought his shoulders curled inwards a bit. “Say, Detective. Would you like a song?”

She picked up her mimosa and slid next to him on the bench, settling her glass next to his. “Surprise me,” she said.

 

She wasn’t quite sure what she should do: keep her shirt on and have it plastered to her breasts, or take it off and be naked in a shower with Lucifer? She knew what Maze would advise, but she wasn’t Maze; not by any stretch of the imagination. However, she was practical, and she needed a shower too, and so once Lucifer was sitting naked in his (enormous, of course) shower with his back to her, she took it off.

“Would you like me to close my eyes, Detective?”

“Well, if you don’t want soap to get into them, it might be a good idea.”

“I don’t think I need soap. The, ah, they’re a bit dusty but not filthy.”

“Not even shampoo? Is that a big no-no for feathers?”

“Better to avoid it, if you can.”

“So what do you need me for?”

“Apart from you mostly naked in he shower with me?”

“Yes, apart from that.”

He sighed. “I can’t reach some of those very well,” he said with a wave at his back. “Just… just wet them, and maybe run your fingers through them. Preferably gently. Most of the dirt should wash away.”

“Okay.” She waited. “You do realize you’ll have to, I don’t know, get them out? Show them? What is the word?” Nothing happened. “Is the shower too small?”

He kept silent for a while longer. “No,” he finally answered. “I can control how they appear if I’m not surprised, it’s only…” A pause. “Maybe I should just get rid of them.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why,” he said in a voice so low she suspected he wasn’t sure he wanted her to hear him.

“Well.” She counted on her fingers. “Maze won’t do it. Your brother would stop talking to you for ever. Linda would analyze it to death. On the other hand, Ella would geek out about them and Trixie would love them. And just imagine Dan’s face if he saw them!” she paused. “And you don’t want to.”

He shrugged. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“What do you think?”

“About them? They’re gorgeous. They suit you. They’re not all of you, either.”

“I don’t know what they mean.”

“And you’ll never know unless you keep them.”

His head fell forward a little, and she took a step back. Two wings slowly coalesced out of nowhere, tightly held against his body at first then slowly relaxing until they brushed the shower walls. She got to work, using the shower head on its lowest setting at first to spray them then, when she saw him relax and loosen, wetting them down thoroughly. They felt different when waterlogged; heavier and denser. Sandy water swirled her feet at first, but soon it ran clear and she only kept her hands on them, on him, because it felt good. Because she liked it. Because, when she shut the water off and massaged his shoulders and ran her fingers through the feathers, she could hear deep sighs that sometimes ended up as little moans.

“I think you’re all clean now,” she murmured after what left like a very long, very short time.

He stood up carefully, and she could see the moment he realized he couldn’t shake them properly there. “I’ll, uh. I’ll let them dry outside,” he said without looking at her; and he fled the bathroom, probably leaving a small river behind him as he made for the balcony.

She looked down at herself and decided she could just as well finish cleaning up here.

 

“You took your sweet time,” Maze said when she got out.

“Well, the jets are something.”

“Yeah. I’m going back to Linda’s, but text if you need me to pick up the kid from Dan’s.”

“Thanks, I will.”

Maze pointed a finger-gun at Amenadiel as she left. “Don’t let Lucifer be an idiot.”

“As if he ever listens to me,” he grumbled as the elevator doors shut. He turned to Chloe. “Look, I’d like to, uh.” He fidgeted. “There are things I need to check, and my brother is hopeless at research, and…”

“We’ll be fine. Sleep, talk, that kind of thing.”

“Just, um.” She nodded encouragingly. “He’s, uh, he’s pretty rattled, I think. More than he lets on.”

“…yes?”

“Just don’t, er, don’t push him? For some things? He’d never say no to you, but, ah.” He kept looking at everything but her face.

“Are you asking me not to sleep with him?” His eyes settled on his feet. “I don’t know whether to laugh at you or punch you, really. But I suppose that’s sweet of you to worry for him.”

“Fine, but…”

“I promise I won’t.” Amenadiel looked so awkward that she finally took pity on him. “Let’s pretend this conversation never happened, yeah?”

“Father, yes!” The look of relief on his face was comical, and he shuffled out as fast as he could after stuffing some leftover croissants in a takeaway box.

It was hard to believe these people were angels; that they were divine beings, eternal and powerful. Mostly, they were prime examples on how not to parent children; and that’s probably the kind of mindset that helped Linda cope with it.

Yes, there were many things that made it impossible to forget who they were, she thought, watching Lucifer doze in the sunlight. He was sprawled face down on a lounger she’d never seen before, his wings spread on either side of him. His phone was dangling from his fingers, and she rescued it before it fell. It was a new one, because she knew his old phone was cracked after falling on gravel and baking in the sun for a few days before they found it. Asagi hadn’t gotten much from it, and once she was done she’d given the SIM card back to Chloe. “Leave it at his place,” she’d said. “He’ll need it when he’s back.” That drop of optimism in the darkness had helped, at the time.

The phone buzzed in her hand, and she looked down at it. _Candy_ , it said next to a little phone symbol. Something – feathers, she realized – brushed against her calf as he stirred and turned his head to the side. “Detective,” he mumbled.

She held the phone out to him. “Message from your ex.”

“Mmh?” He started to move to his side but one of his wings got caught in furniture. “Ow. Bloody things.” He settled back on his stomach.

“Your ex. Candy.”

“Ah.” His eyes fluttered shut again. “You can read it. You can read all of them, you know.”

She felt a bit ashamed that she didn’t hesitate for long. “All right. I’m going back inside, and you should too. You’re going to get worse burns if you stay much longer out here.” He was wearing trousers and most of his back was protected by the _bloody things_ , but his nape was already looking much redder than it should and his shoulders were burned enough as it was. “I think they’re dry, now.”

She left the balcony and settled on the sofa, hoping he wouldn’t stay outside much longer, and scrolled up to the first message. There was nothing before today, of course. _Is this working?_ he’d sent. _New phone._ Time-stamp said it was just after he’d left the bathroom.

_OMG you’re alive!?_

_Yes. Sorry. Was kidnapped._

_R U OK? Was it evil mom?_

_Yes, & no. She’s away for good now._

_Was so worried! Had 2 tell Kyle he probably wouldn’t meet U. Now look at him! :-_ _D_ There was a picture of a young boy, maybe 3, grinning up at the camera. He was fair-haired and his eyes shone behind thick glasses.

_Am not quite ready for company yet. Will tell you_ _when_ _. Say hi._

_Hi back!_ Another picture of Candy and the child, smiling and waving. She was almost unrecognizable – plain jeans and sweater, simple ponytail, hardly any makeup. No pink anywhere.

A wingless Lucifer settled next to her on the sofa. “She’s been trying to get me to meet her child for ages now.”

“He’s got Down syndrome.”

“Yes.”

“She never was a stripper, right?”

“An exotic dancer, and no.”

“Did you actually marry her?”

“The paperwork was real, yes.”

The paperwork, huh. The phone buzzed again. _So how is it going with Detective Decker?_

He made to take the phone to answer, but she extended her arm as far away as she could. “Nope.” She slung an arm over the back of the couch, careful not to touch his reddened skin, and took a photo of them both.

“Detective!”

“Too late, sent it.”

He groaned and covered his face with his hands. “That’s it. I’m definitely doomed.”

_Oooh!_ _Hello,_ _Detective!_ _You look less cooked than he does!_

_Yup ;-_ _)_

_He sent me pics of your daughter. Cute kid!_ Hah.

_Thanks. Yours too. Great smile!_

_:-_ _)_ _Lucifer_ _helped me get him back, and I owe him everything for that._ _The rest is his story to tell, but I’m glad you’_ _ve made up_ _._ Chloe smiled to see Candy reverting to more formal texts when talking to a cop. Just like so many people. 

_Me too._

“Can I get my phone back?” Lucifer whined.

“Maybe. Will you tell me what really happened between you two?”

“I promise. I meant it, you know. No more going backwards, like you said.”

“All right then.”

He set the phone on the low coffee table after a last text to Candy and leaned back against the couch, his gaze unfocused. “Where do you want me to start?”

“I don’t know. You don’t have to tell me everything right now anyway, you still look like you’re about to fall asleep any minute.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I just don’t want to.”

“Uh huh. Fine.” She got up and headed to the bar. “We should do something about those burns. I got Maze to bring me something.”

“They’ll go away on their own. I think.”

“Still.” She thunked the bottle of gel in front of him. “This should help.”

He eyed it. “Okay.”

“We’ll start with your arms,” she said.

He started. “We?”

“You’ll never put it on if I just leave it here. Give me your arm.”

“I…”

She pumped some gel in her palm. “Arm.”

He held it out gingerly. “Is it going to hurt?”

“Trixie is much braver than you, you know that?”

That shut him up.

She started massaging his hand, his wrist, going up his taut forearm and spreading it around. “Oh,” he only said when it first touched him.

“It feels good, yes?” she whispered, her focus on her fingers. She saw him nod from the corner of her eye. She kept at it, adding more gel, her touch getting more firm when she reached his upper arm. There was muscle there, lean but strong, and she took her time. It was for him, but it was for herself, too. She’d wanted to touch him for so long, touch his skin, feel his strength; she’d wanted to make sure he was here and alive and hers, too. The wings were all well and good, but she’d never thought about them before. She’d never really dreamed about them. His shoulders though – digging her fingers in a tense trapezius, feeling it give under the pressure, feeling him relax. Feeling his head fall on her own shoulder, his breath warm her neck.

“S’nice,” he murmured. “Cool, and nice.”

“I know.” He didn’t move. “I’ve got to do your other arm.”

“Mmh.”

“I’ll change sides.”

“Mmh.” He kept not moving, and she pushed him gently against the couch before moving herself. His head fell back and bared his neck. “Goin’ to ruin the leather, I bet.”

“I’m sure you’ve done much worse on that sofa.”

“Mh. Will replace it.”

“Why?” She started on his other arm.

“Want a new one jus’ feh you.”

“You sound drunk, you know that?” His lips curved up a little, and she felt hers do the same.

“Only you, Detective.”

“Only me?”

“You make me vulnerable. No one else.”

“I don’t think we meant quite the same that evening.”

His smile widened, and he hissed when it pulled on the cracks on his lips. The smile stayed there anyway. “You make me bleed, and you make me sleepy, and you make me… feel.”

“Feel?”

“Mmh. Things.”

“Good things?”

“All kinds.”

She was careful on his neck, careful not to tug at the scabs there, careful not to hurt him. Not that he looked like anything was hurting at the moment. “You make me feel all kinds of things too.”

She followed the tendons down to his collarbone, to his sternum. He still looked remarkably fit for someone who’d just spent a month in the desert, presumably without much food or water. Maybe a bit thinner, yes, but anyone else would have died. Well. He _was_ the devil, fallen angel and older than creation; so maybe a month was a blink of an eye, for him. A human life was like a butterfly’s, at best.

“I can feel you thinkin’,” he almost slurred.

She realized her hands had stopped moving, and she started again. “How can you be so invested in life down here? How can you be so affected by this world, if you were made before it?”

He sighed. “Haven’t the faintest. Ask my father.”

Not that she could. Not that anyone could, from what she understood. She tried not to dwell too much on it; it was nothing she could change anyway. She put all her attention back on her task.

He shuddered when her palm brushed over his nipple, and his eyes slitted open when she did it again. “Playful mood, Detective?”

“Sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“No I’m not. Hey, how come you have one of those?” She stuck her finger in his belly button.

He’d probably deny he shrieked. “How do you think?” She smiled like innocence personified in the face of his glare.

“Do you have some sort of baby pictures?” She curled her fingers around his side, soothingly; and he shook his head as his eyes closed again.

“Pity.”

“Amenadiel had a full afro,” he said.

“Really?”

“Mmh.”

“Wish I could have seen that.” She shifted on her knees, and looked down at his face. She could straddle his thighs, but… no. Too intimate, too soon. “Don’t move.” She dabbed some gel on his nose, on his forehead, on his cheekbones. He opened his eyes and gazed at her in wonder. “What is it?”

“I don’t feel… I don’t… It doesn’t…” He looked a little lost, a little shocked. “It’s different?”

“What is?”

“Can you close you eyes for a minute?”

“Why?”

“Please?”

“If you plan on changing face, I won’t. I don’t need to.”

“But…”

“I am not afraid of you.”

He stared at her a bit longer, and finally closed his own eyes. His face changed then, his entire body; and it was the Lucifer of the night before. Except… “It looks better than it did.”

“It feels… yes. It feels better,” he said. His eyelids twitched and opened, and the same look of puzzlement and confused awe as a minute ago was in those red eyes.

“That’s good then, yes?”

Her hand, still with a dollop of cool gel in it, settled back on his cheek, and he let out a little amazed, reverent, “oh.”

And he fell asleep for good right there under her careful touch, and he didn’t even change back. Whatever ‘back’ was, now.

 

He didn’t stir when Chloe tucked a thin blanket between his body and the couch, just rolling a little when she nudged him gently. She reckoned he’d be grateful when he woke up not stuck to leather.

She tried to occupy herself while he slept. A phone call to Dan and Trixie, checking up with her colleagues on duty this weekend, looking at his bookshelves. But most of her life now was entangled with things and people – beings? – that were very much not human, and she had to come to terms with it.

And it was in those quiet moments when she wasn’t really busy that it all threatened to crush her. Everyone around her was somehow involved in this, and it felt – not really frightening, but… stifling. She liked sharing a house with Maze and she trusted her to keep her daughter safe, but Maze was a demon. A demon who didn’t scrape food off of the plates when she thought of putting them in the dishwasher, a demon who let Trixie stick band-aids all over her, and a demon who’d gone from hellbent – hah – on all the kinky sex, all the time to spending a month at Lucifer’s therapist bedside. Well, maybe she’d soon find the occasional bottle of lube or latex glove lying around again. Or maybe not.

Her mother had been visited by an angel, her ex had slept with god’s (ex-) wife, her partner was the devil... Damn, even Ella’s faith and unflinching belief in Lucifer’s or Maze’s goodness meant she wasn’t a haven from all of this. As for the devil himself, he was oscillating between annoying, hyperactive pain in her ass and… she looked at him, back to his more ordinary appearance by then. He looked so young sometimes. He was so old. It rarely showed. How was she supposed to, to deal?

Chloe got up and stared at his Wall of Booze. He’d probably be horrified to know she’d dubbed it the Wall of Booze, but that’s what it was and she would stick to it. Especially when (expensive, enticing) booze what was she needed.

All she’d learned… it explained a lot, yes. But it seemed just as many, if not more things were not making sense. Stuff that didn’t add up, stuff that she couldn’t wrap her mind around. Could she go on as before? Should she? She wandered back to the living room, glass in hand, and sat in an armchair. What was best for her? For Trixie?

And also, what did _she_ want?

She knocked back her scotch and set the tumbler at her feet. It was a good thing he had a therapist and that said therapist was miraculously – very literally miraculously – fully healed, because he needed help, and she… she needed space, space to figure out where she stood and who she was, in all of this. How to cope and go on. To gather back the pieces of herself that the past few months had scattered everywhere, and find herself again. What she could and could not accept, for herself and above all for her daughter.

And she couldn’t do that while constantly surrounded by all their divine fuckery.

 

Their little week-long mother-daughter road-trip had been fun, but she’d never really managed to forget Lucifer’s face when she’d told him.

He’d woken up after a few hours, his eyes darting everywhere until they’d fallen on her and immediately softened. She’d known then that unless she took a break and stepped back now, she wouldn’t ever be able to.

In between work, Trixie and checking up on Lucifer, she’d arranged for a week off with the Lieutenant ( _high time you took a holiday, Decker –_ _a real one, not a stay in hospital_ ), met with the school to get homework for Trixie ( _your daughter is resilient, but probably needs some special time with you_ , the psychologist had said as he authorized the week away), told Dan she’d keep him updated. She’d warned everyone not to contact her unless it was an absolute emergency, had coffee on neutral grounds with Maze and Linda, and her final stop had been Lux.

A week after his reappearance, there was no visible sign of his ordeal. No bags under his eyes, no untamed hair, no beard, no blisters. He’d been leaning against the railing on the balcony, loose and comfortable. But when she’d explained… He didn’t say much, really. _Of course_ , and _enjoy your trip_ , and _you don’t need to explain_ and _I understand_. She knew he didn’t.

“I’ll come back, Lucifer. It’s just a break, for Trixie and me.”

“You’re afraid, Detective. You have every right to be.” She remembered the cigarette flaring when he’d put it between his lips. It had made his eyes red for a second, unless it hadn’t been the cigarette.

“I am taking some time off for my daughter and me, not because of who you are. Too much has happened. We need to… regroup.” Well, and remember what it was to be a plain old human being among other plain old human beings, if at all possible. But she hadn’t said that.

She’d watched him instead, scowling at nothing, cigarette butts piling in the ashtray in front of him and the gin steadily decreasing in the bottle next to it.

Just before walking back inside the penthouse to ride the elevator down, she’d glanced a last time at his face. It had been gray and defeated, and she’d almost changed her mind there and then.

But he’d said, “go to your offspring, Detective. You are a good mother to her.”

And she’d left.

 

And now, after a week exploring deserts and making memories, she was enjoying the cool breeze from the ocean while Trixie was looking for treasures on the beach. There were not a lot of shells or pretty pebbles, but still enough to keep her occupied with her rake and bucket. She’d started decorating the lopsided towers of a sandcastle, but then decided she needed to find prettier things and had started wandering around, although never too far from Chloe.

 _Back to real life tomorrow_ , she thought. Back to school for Trixie, back to the precinct for her. Back home in the evening, too; and although Maze had planned to stay the week at Linda’s and wouldn’t be there it still felt like a return for which she wasn’t prepared. At least now, she knew she’d simply never be prepared. It was just… life. Life, as usual. When your car refused to start in the middle of nowhere, you just… dealt with it, even if there was no shade to be found anywhere and no AC and Trixie was too hot and they didn’t have a lot of water left after their little trek. You just… looked inside, fixed what you could, asked for help for the rest. And life went on.

She closed her eyes to better enjoy the sun, the wind, the ocean smells, the birds’ cries, the sand under her toes and the large brim of her hat flapping a little against her neck. She could hear Trixie singing to herself not too far, the pages of a discarded magazine fluttering by her side.

When her little monkey suddenly fell silent, she opened them again to see what had caused it. At first she didn’t understand. Her daughter was looking further up the beach, waving and grinning.

Her throat constricted, knowing what she’d see – _who_ she’d see – even before Trixie yelled his name. Chloe looked behind her, and there he was. Not dressed in his usual clothes, but she’d recognize his silhouette everywhere. His straight posture, the way his hands were in his pockets… She knew him, even if he was wearing what looked like jeans and not a suit. Slow, tentative, he got one out and waved back at Trixie. He raised his head higher then, and looked around until he saw her. A group of teenagers hid him from sight for a few seconds and when they had gone by he’d disappeared.

It figured, she thought. But what else could she expect? She knew what he’d believed when she’d left, and even though she’d asked the very people she’d needed to take a break from to keep an eye on him she’d always suspected it wouldn’t be enough. The devil was both the most arrogant and the most insecure man she’d ever met, and given her mother had routinely rubbed shoulders with the high and mighty in Hollywood that was saying something.

She got her phone out and started texting.

 

“I’m glad you came,” she said when he slid into the chair in front of them.

“Yes, well.” He let Trixie tug on his arm so he’d bend enough for her to throw her arms around his neck, and after about two seconds pushed her away while pretending he was patting her head. It fooled no one, and greatly amused everyone but him.

“Lucifer, have you ever been in the desert?”

He narrowed his eyes at Chloe as he answered her daughter. “Yes.”

“Will you come with us next time?”

“Why? there’s nothing in the desert. That’s why it’s called a desert.”

“Not true! There are lots of plants and animals and weird rocks and hiking and stuff!”

“No pianos, no cigarettes, no drinks.”

“We can bring water in the cooler.”

“I wasn’t thinking of water.”

“But – ”

Seeing Dan walking up to their little group, Chloe interrupted them. “Hey, Trix. Look who’s here!”

He opened his arms but instead of his little girl, he got a bucket full of beach treasures. “Daddy!” He grabbed the handle and was careful no to jostle it and risk breaking down the fragile shells.

“Hey, monkey. You look good!” He took in the table, nodded at them before turning back to their daughter. “Do you want to stay with me for a few days?”

He kept looking between Lucifer and her, trying to ask questions she had no answer to with his eyebrows, while Lucifer had plastered a smirk on his face and looked like, well, a douche.

“I’m sorry I called you so suddenly, but…”

“Yeah, no, I get it. You know I’m always happy to have Trix for a few days, yeah?” He turned to Lucifer. “You know, I like your brother.”

“Oh please. Our mum was already several steps too far, please don’t bmfff…!” Dan winced when Lucifer removed his hand from his face with a glare.

“I’ll make sure you’re the first to know if it happens, Morningstar.”

Chloe smiled. She felt… light, in that moment. The men in her life, her friends, her child’s father, her maybe almost boyfriend and, fine, fallen angel… she could do it, she thought. It might be quite a ride, but it would be the best ride ever; and it would be the biggest mistake in her life – and Trixie’s – if she left it all behind.

 

Once Dan and Trixie had left, Lucifer’s smirk disappeared; and she thought he’d have shuffled his feet if he’d been a five-year-old boy. Which, let’s be honest, he sometimes was. Something easy first, something simple.

“Why the clothes?”

He shrugged. “Ruined a few perfectly good suits. Thought I should stick to something sturdier for a while.”

“What happened to those suits?”

“Unexpected appendages.”

“Huh?”

“I, er.” He shook a cigarette out of his pack and lit it. “A couple times last week, I… they appeared. Mostly while Amenadiel was being a pain.” While they were arguing, she translated. “I didn’t control them and they tore through a Prada and two Armanis, and also once I woke up sleep-flying above Lux. I crash-landed in the alley behind, but bye bye trousers.”

“But right now you’re not sleeping and Amenadiel’s nowhere to be seen, right? Or do you think it could happen… now?” With families enjoying the last hours of the weekend everywhere around them, kids enjoying ice-creams with their grandparents, young couples holding hands and tourists snapping pictures.

“I doubt it.” His eyes went to his cigarette, to the tobacco turning into ash and a plume of smoke rising between them. “How was your vacation?”

“It was good. We had a great time, but it’s back to reality tomorrow.” He didn’t say anything. “Join me at the station at around nine?”

He looked up. “Detective?”

“Will you come? If you want to, of course.”

“I… I’d like to.” He crushed the butt of his cigarette. “Are you sure?”

“I am.”

He leaned forward to peer at her. “Are you well, though? Have you forgotten…?” He sat back in his chair. “You should be afraid. That’s why you left in the first place, after all. Has my father altered your judgment while you were in the desert? Remember any flash of light, strange music?” His eyes were darting everywhere, from her face to over her shoulder to the ocean and back to her. He was growing agitated, as he often did whenever he thought his fa – _god_ , it was _god_ – was trying to control him, to control anyone.

She put her hand on his forearm, felt how tense it was. “Lucifer. Lucifer, no. I’m afraid, it’s true. But it’s not you I’m afraid of. It’s for you, it’s of what could hurt Trixie. Of who could hurt her. Your mother was…” Creepy, callous, terrifying; and all the more so since she’d learned more about her from Maze and Amenadiel the week before. But she’d also been his mother, and to all intents and purposes dead. He’d never see her again, and it had been his choice. His decision, to protect everyone else. Protect her. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought her up.”

“No, I… it’s fine. it’s better this way.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck. Doesn’t mean you don’t miss her.” She slid her fingers slowly from the thin, delicate skin of his inner arm down to his palm. “You love her, in spite of everything. You only ever get one mom.” Like you love your father, she didn’t say. Not now. She waited for him to curl his hand around hers, but he never did. “Hold my hand,” she said. Take a leap. Have faith. Please.

“She almost killed Doctor Linda,” he whispered.

“Linda’s fine now. Your brother and Maze got her to the hospital in time. You healed her. She’s fine.”

“She tried to kill you. She put Azrael’s blade in human hands. She…”

“You did the best you could. There was no really good choice.”

“I killed…” He choked on a name she couldn’t make out. “He wanted to kill mum. He wanted to kill you. I had to stop him and I killed him. I killed my brother.”

He didn’t cry. He looked like he’d already cried out all the tears in the world, and like he was all dried out inside.

But, finally, his fingers closed over her hand and he whispered, “thank you.”

 

The night was falling when they eventually left their little corner table on the pier. She’d let him talk a bit more, let him be silent, too. Let him know he didn’t need to feel alone against the whole world, let him know she had no expectations, no fears. Let him know she had his back.

Still, he seemed reluctant to release her hand.

“I won’t change my mind, you know.”

“I know. You’re steadfast, Detective, and I don’t deserve…”

“Oh, just shut up.” He stopped and looked down at her, his mouth half-open; and she felt like laughing, carefree and feather-light. “You should talk about your I-don’t-deserve obsession with Linda, you know?”

He started walking again, but as he started to answer a huge yawn interrupted him. “She is still on leave.”

Understandably so. “Are you still tired?”

“I’m fine.”

“You almost look more tired than when I saw you last week.” She knew he’d been sleeping a lot the week after he’d reappeared. She knew, because she’d often been there, stopping by after work for an hour or two to talk with Amenadiel or Maze if he was asleep, or to let him explain some of the many mysteries around him when he wasn’t. She listened to him play the piano, once chatted with Linda who’d come to thank him while Maze kept glowering at him as she sharpened her knives. She hadn’t stepped more than three foot away from Linda the whole time.

But now, his eyes were bloodshot, the fine skin just under them was a bit bruised.

“You’re not sleeping well, are you?” He hummed. “Do you know why?” He mumbled something. “Lucifer.”

A sigh. “I said, I slept better when you were around.”

Oh. “I can stay at the penthouse tonight. I still have some clean clothes in my trunk, I’ll be presentable for work tomorrow.”

“Oooh, Detective.” He tried to leer at her, but his heart wasn’t in it.

“Nothing will happen, and you know it.” His smile grew smaller, but also warmer, more genuine. “Come, I’ll drive you to your penthouse.”

“But – ”

“You’ll send someone to get your car. Do you want to crash it because you were dozing at the wheel?”

“Wouldn’t happen.”

“Would.”

“’m the dev’l,” he (sort of) said as she pushed him in the passenger seat.

“Yup. And I’m a cop. No drowsy driving on my watch.”

He did some drowsy passengering instead.

 

The next morning, when they arrived together at the precinct, Ella high-fived her, Dan rolled his eyes and threatened to marry Charlotte so he’d be her sort-of step-father-in-law, and all in all the entire station felt a bit more bright, a bit more alive; as if without Lucifer it had lost some of its life. Or maybe she was projecting.

Still, life as usual – kind of – had its perks.

 

The next Friday was the first girls’ night in a long time, and she thanked her lucky stars – and _no one else_ – for Dan.

He didn’t bat an eye when she asked if he could keep Trixie until Monday, and started making plans to take her to Disneyland with Amenadiel who’d apparently never been there and had become, somehow, his new best bud.

She tried to get back into the mindset that had driven her away two weeks before, the mindset that had made her need to step back from all those angels and demons, but it never came. She knew Trixie would be happy and safe, she knew this was her life now and that, well. That she liked it. Liked them. Trusted them.

And so leaving her daughter in the care of her ex and an angel, she went to have drinks with a demon, the devil’s therapist and a Catholic friend; and life, really, was good.

 

On Saturday however, life – while still good – became a little stranger.

It started with enjoying some me-time; lazing in bed and taking a long shower to get rid of the last cobwebs from the night before, preparing some Hawaiian sandwiches just for herself. It was quiet. Maze was at Linda’s for her last weekend before starting work again and Chloe decided it was as good a time as any to do a little cleaning around the house while there was no roommate or child distracting her.

As she was idly sorting through the week’s mail, her phone beeped from time to time. Once it was Dan sending her a picture of their little girl looking even tinier on Amenadiel’s big shoulders, another time Ella’s insta with latest eyeshadow find. It never was Lucifer, who’d said he wouldn’t be available for the weekend. She hadn’t pushed, although she was curious. She didn’t need to know everything. She shouldn’t pry, right?

But then Dan sent her another message that said, _look who we met_. And there on the picture, looking supremely (but hilariously) uncomfortable, was Lucifer, Trixie holding one of his hand and a small blond child trying to climb his leg.

So that’s what had him busy this weekend. Chloe had to admit, she was curious about Candy and her son. She wondered why he’d hidden this from her… or maybe she was seeing more into it than there was. Maybe there was no hiding, really. _LOL have fun_ , she sent back.

Dan didn’t answer, but while she’d been contented before, she started to feel left out. There was no family with her, no friend or loved one. Just her four walls and a few bottles of beer chilling in the fridge. She went on with her day – some grocery shopping, catching up on a show she liked – but it all was rather tasteless now.

Until she got a text from Lucifer himself, asking if she’d like to join them for dinner or if she’d rather they came to Venice.

She sent back the address of a pizza place nearby she knew that was child-friendly and a time to meet, and opened her closet to stare at her clothes until then. She totally could dress well if she wanted to, whatever Maze said.

 

She saw their little group coming from the other end of parking lot. They made quite an impression, really. Trixie had apparently decided Amenadiel’s shoulders were the place to be (well, they certainly looked sturdy enough), and Dan was carrying two tiny, brightly colored backpacks and a huge bag of, she assumed, shirts and toys and other assorted goodies that they probably couldn’t do without even when eating a pizza. And a little fair-haired boy was walking besides Lucifer, one hand clutching his jeans and the other safely held in his mom’s.

She waved at them from the front of the restaurant, and Candy waved back. She felt almost overdressed seeing them, even Lucifer was wearing black jeans – and there was not a hint of pink on Candy. Self-conscious, Chloe opened and closed again her smart jacket, not sure what she should do.

“Mommy!” Her little girl monkeyed down from her perch and ran to her, and the point was moot. “Mommy, we had a great day!”

“Well I’m glad. Will you tell me about it?” Chloe knelt to wave at Kyle who clearly had latched onto Lucifer and wasn’t about to let go, but he waved back at her with a shy smile. She nodded then at the rest of their little group as Trixie launched into a description of their day, on how Kyle had managed to get them on some rides without having to queue just by being cute and why Dan was wearing a Beauty and the Beast shirt (his own had been drenched in a ride and Trixie had picked a new one for him. Candy winked at Dan and he blushed; he honest-to-god blushed. Huh).

“I’m starving,” Candy said. (More blushing ensued.)

“Let’s go inside then. They do great food.”

They settled in at a round table and yes, Candy sat between her son and Dan, and Trixie insisted on being between Lucifer (whose pants were still firmly in Kyle’s grasp) and her mom. Dan seemed weirdly torn between Amenadiel and Candy, and Chloe tried hard not laugh when he did a chicken impression turning his head left and right to talk to them. She couldn’t entirely suppress her snickers though at the sight of Lucifer between two children who hero-worshipped him, awkwardly trying to talk to the other adults and yet bending to a little head as soon as they demanded his attention. Grumbling and rolling his eyes, yes; but listening nonetheless. He claimed to hate children, and they certainly made him uncomfortable; but she suspected his own relationships with his parents had made him way more attuned to their needs, too. Sometimes to the point of overdoing it, but she wasn’t sure if she should blame the doll incident on his upbringing or his own tendency to go overboard. Well. It was the egg and the chicken problem, she reckoned.

“Hey,” she said turning to his brother. “How was Lucifer as a kid? Say, when he was Kyle’s or Trixie’s age?”

Amenadiel’s face went through different configurations. “Er. He was tiny and he couldn’t be left alone for one minute.”

“That is not – yes, what?” Kyle rubbed his eyes, making his glasses almost fall off from his face, and pointed at the table to their left. “Ice-cream?” the child nodded.

“He mostly needs to go to sleep, I think,” Candy said.

“Not even one scoop? It can’t hurt, surely!” Kyle whined a little, leaning into Lucifer. He’d found his champion, clearly.

“Me too, mommy!”

Chloe traded looks with Candy. Mom to mom, they understood each other, really. “Fine, monkey. You and Kyle can share ice-cream. You’ll have to trade seats with Lucifer, though. How does that sound?”

The boy seemed about to start wailing when Lucifer stood up to let Trixie into his chair, but then Candy distracted him and he calmed down.

“So that was why you had to disappear for the weekend?”

“Well, I – ”

“It’s cute.”

He stared at her. “You didn’t find it cute when you first saw her.”

“Well, I didn’t have all the information back then.” He looked down. “I understand why you kept things from me. Not that it was the right thing to do, but… I understand why you did it. It’s in the past now.”

“Detective…”

“Shh.”

He subsided, toying with the stem of his wine glass. They all looked at Trixie playing big sis with Kyle, telling him what part of the dessert he could eat and how he couldn’t have the little biscuit because she was older but letting him have the chocolate chips.

Chloe exchanged a bittersweet smile with Dan. It could have gone that way, she thought. It didn’t. Maybe it would somehow – she could see the way he’d ended up closer to Candy than he’d started, remembered how devastated he’d been when Charlotte hadn't remembered him. He craved this, she knew. Dan’s eyes jumped to Lucifer for a second, and her smile grew a bit more sad. Maybe, probably, a few years ago, she’d have said yes to another kid. Now though… She wasn’t sure she was able to make enough room in her life for a second one, not without bitterness at the sacrifices she’d have to make. And if it were with Lucifer… she’d rather not even think about it.

The kids grew drowsy after their dessert, full and contented; and that was the signal for everyone to get ready to leave. Amenadiel took Trixie on his hip on the way to Dan’s car and with a deep sigh, Lucifer carried Kyle. Candy took the opportunity to walk up to Chloe.

“I think I may hitch a ride with your ex tonight. If it’s ok with you.”

“Why wouldn’t it be? We’re not married anymore.”

“Oh! Not what I meant. Not tonight, at least.”

“I saw you look at each other.”

“Yes, well. I like him. He’s good with Kyle, too.”

“He can be great, yes. We just… didn’t work out.”

“It happens.” Chloe made a point not to ask about Kyle’s father. “Anyway, I just… you should go with Lucifer, you know?”

“How did you all get there?”

“We piled up in Dan’s car, except Lucifer. He wouldn’t come with us.”

“I bet.”

They watched Dan and Amenadiel wrangle the kids in the back, Kyle in the child seat and Trixie next to the left window as she liked. Lucifer was leaning against the hood, ignoring all proceedings and smoking a cigarette.

“You should maybe spend the rest of the weekend together.”

Chloe didn’t pretend not to understand who Candy was talking about. “He’d freed it for you.”

“I know, but… honestly, I wasn’t expecting him to survive Disneyland with even just Kyle and me.” She turned to face her. “I know you felt betrayed when he came back married to me, I know I lied to you about who I was, but…”

“Yeah.” They were all sharp edges and crumbly parts, here with a clean break and there crushed by too much pressure. None of them were whole, Chloe thought. But they could still fit. They could still make it work.

“You know, when Kyle was born… we didn’t know. His father didn’t take it well. He joined a cult, tried to convince me to go with him. That they'd, they’d _cure_ Kyle. As if he was broken. I fought, how I fought. I lost. I thought I’d never see him again. My baby.” She took a deep breath, released it slowly. “And then I met Lucifer.”

“Did he scare them off?”

“He did.” A small smile appeared on Candy’s face. “By that time, I’d ended up involved in some pretty shady things to try and get by, to try and get Kyle back, too. He solved it all for me. And I asked how I could help.” Dan turned back and waved at them. “I’m staying in a hotel not too far from Lux. Feel free to give me a ring.” She squeezed Chloe’s arm. “And… you know.” _I do_ , Chloe thought as she watched them leave. _I do_.

“Do you want me to drop you at your place?” Lucifer bent over his Corvette to put out what was left of his cigarette butt in the car ashtray.

“That would be nice.” Or… “How are you sleeping these days?”

“We’ll, I… I’m fine.”

“You can spend the night with, um. On my couch. If it helps.”

“I’m sure the benefits would be outweighed by the pain in my back I’d get from sleeping on that small, lumpy thing you call a couch.” He was smiling. They were good. It felt right.

“Hey!”

“ _You_ can sleep in the penthouse, if you’d like.” She raised her eyebrows. “In Maze’s old rooms, I mean. If you’d rather. Not that I’d say no if you’d – ”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” She’d been trying not to go there for so long. Not to let herself fall. Scrambling back out of it, at times. But she was too deeply entrenched now, and she didn’t want to get out anymore. “Let’s just first stop at the house so I can get a change of clothes.”

He stared at her, silent and wide-eyed; and nodded.

 

“Do you mind if we first stop at Lux before going up?”

Well, it wasn’t that late and she wasn’t that tired. “No, it’s fine. I could do with a cocktail or two.”

He beamed at her and made a beeline to the bar to stash her overnight bag behind it and get some drinks, and she hadn’t even yet sat down that he was back with something that looked frou-frou with little umbrellas and many colors for her and a plain tumbler of probably very expensive, very strong alcohol.

“Detective! I’ve told the waiters to bring you whatever you want, just give them a wave.” He fidgeted a bit, but didn’t sit down.

“Well go on, mingle a bit. I know you want to.”

“But…”

She waved her hand at all the clubbers moving and laughing and drinking. “Let me enjoy my drink, first, I need it.” He hesitated. “Go on, do your thing. As you like to remind me whenever there’s paperwork to be done, it’s your job too.”

He took a sip from his tumbler and left it next to her drink before walking backwards, his eyes on her, and disappearing in the crowd. Even when she couldn’t see him, however, she always knew where he was. You just had to follow everyone’s focus; really. He didn’t even need to have the spotlights on him, he just had everyone’s attention, always; even when out of his usual smart suits. Here he was, twirling a braided beauty before leaving her next to a surprised but happy, shy-looking guy with crutches; dancing with a muscular guy before nudging him to the bar where a couple had been looking at him for a while. Each time, they seemed to forget him and turn to their new companions. The devil was a matchmaker, and wasn’t that both surprising and logical? She tried to picture him as a chubby little Cupid flitting around fluffy clouds, a little quiver hanging between his wings, and she almost laughed out loud.

“So what has got you smiling so wide while you’re on your own here?”

“Maze!” Chloe’s eyes slid a bit more to the left. “Oh, Linda; you look great!” She shuffled a bit to the side to make room for them.

“Has Lucifer abandoned you?”

“I think he’s just happy to be back here,” Linda said.

“If he ever looks at someone else – ”

“We’re not together, Maze.” Both women looked at her with eyebrows raised. “No, really.”

“Still.”

Chloe grinned behind her cocktail. It felt good to know people were looking out for her, after all. Once she’d accepted it. “How about you two?”

Linda blushed, but inched a bit closer to Maze. Her fair skin wouldn’t hide much, but she wasn’t ashamed either. “We’re good.”

“If you ever want to join us…” Maze trailed off when dark red nails dug into her wrist.

“I’m not sharing you. Yet.”

“Please don’t tell me, I don’t want to know the details.”

“Aw, Decker!”

“I swear I’ll stop making breakfast for three if you do.”

“Fine.”

They got fresh drinks while Lucifer sat at his brand new baby grand, ignoring everyone who tried to get his attention.

“Hey, where’s Trixie?”

“With Dan. He’s got her for the weekend while my in-house sitter is off with her girlfriend.”

“I’m sure we can keep an eye on her from time to time.”

“Thanks, Linda. I’ll keep that in mind.” It was good to know she could count on so many people, really. Ella had really hit it off with Trix when they met, Amenadiel was her new doting uncle, her dad had never been more present than now, and it felt… good. “Hey, you want a laugh?” She got her phone out and showed them the pictures Dan had sent her through the day, and then those she’d made at the pizza place.

“Is that Candy?”

“Yes. That's her son Kyle.”

“I didn’t know she had a kid, too.”

“I didn’t either. Did you know she actually came in to one of his sessions?”

“Wow.” Chloe twirled the straw in her drink and looked at the half-melted ice cubes dancing around. “But she’s actually nice, you know. I like her.”

“Hm. We’ll have to get her to come to one of our little outings, then.”

“Sure. But right now…” Maze stood up and led Linda out of their booth as the last piano notes faded and the DJ got back to his turntables.

It was hard to believe Maze had gone from murderous ninja bartender with a crazy collection of sex toys to, well. Not much had changed, actually. Except she was patient with Trixie and could spend a month at Linda’s bedside, as well. Who knew?

When Lucifer came to drag her on the dance floor too, she let go of all other thoughts than the music and the smell of his cologne and the joy on his face. Her arms on his shoulders, his chin on hers when he bent down to ask if she’d like to choose the next song, the way her feet left the ground when he suddenly twirled her around. It felt good. It felt right. Why wait any longer?

 

In Maze’s old bathroom mirror, she looked at herself. Her damp hair was hanging over her shoulder, but the scar the bullet had left would never entirely fade. It peeked through the dark blond strands, a reminder of her human weakness and strength, both. She knew he didn’t care. He’d seen her naked before, he’d seen her dressed-up and casual, sick and dying and crying and drunk and happy and scared and flirty. He still looked at her like he’d light the heavens for her – literally. Lucifer, the Lightbringer, who’d walked through hell for her… she’d never know _why_ it was her, probably. But  it was. For him, it was. The thought made her feel buoyant and almost dizzy… but happy, too. Elated.

She gave herself a last once-over – flaws and all – and wrapped the bath-towel around herself before going back upstairs.

She heard some humming coming from his bathroom when the elevator doors opened, and she let herself in, following his voice. The door was half-open, probably to let the steam out; and she gave it a gentle push. There he was, towel loosely tied around his waist, shaving with one of those old-fashioned razors that looked more like weapons than anything. He stopped when he saw her reflection in his mirror.

“Detective? I thought you’d gone to sleep.” He swiped the blade a few more times, rinsed it, splashed his face. When he looked back up in the mirror, his eyes widened. _She_ had that effect on him, and no one else. Only her. She could take on the world when he stared at her like that, but for tonight she just wanted him.

Chloe stepped over her discarded towel at her feet and settled a hand on his chest. It was firm, warm. Soft. There were a few fine hairs dusting it.

“Not manscaping anymore, uh?” He made to grab the shirt hanging by the door. Damn. She really was bad at flirting, wasn’t she? Way to put him at ease, she thought as she took his wrist and stopped him. “Don’t.”

“All right.” He sounded confused. “Er. Did you drink too much?”

“I didn’t.” She started walking backwards, tugging him gently by the hand. “Do you still want me?” She knew the answer. She’d known it for a long time, really. But she wanted him to say it. Needed him to say it.

“But…”

“Lucifer.” The back of her knees hit his mattress.

“I…” He looked down at their joined hands, then back at her face. “Really?” he said in a small voice.

She nodded. Smiled.Yes, really. _It's real. We’re real._ He didn’t move, just drank her in like a mirage in the desert promising water and shade. Rest and peace. _He needs a nudge_ , she thought. Gently, she raised his fingers to her lips, kissed his knuckles. Heard his breath catch. Put his palm over her breast, her eyes in his. His eyes in hers. He never looked down, not even when, painfully slowly, his hand started to curve around her, to touch – delicate, so delicate – her skin.

She mirrored his movements, slow and careful. From his chest to his stomach, from his waist to the towel she got rid of, then back to his chest. His shoulder, his neck. His cheek.

He closed his eyes then, and she knew he was hers. Entirely hers.

“I want you. I know you, and I want you.” His lips parted, but he made no sound. He looked somewhere between confused and awed and overwhelmed, and she kissed him. Put her hand right over the fine, short hair on his neck and pulled a little and he fell right into her arms and she fell back on the bed, dragging him along.

He grew a little bolder, tangling a hand in her hair, tugging a little to make her bare her throat to him before always, always coming back to her, to her lips, to her eyes. It seemed he couldn’t get enough of staring at her. She could feel him breathing on her skin, feel his heartbeat when she brushed against his carotid. It was fast.

“Lucifer,” she whispered. His thigh slid up against hers, and he raised himself a little above her.

“Det – Chloe,” he said, and smiled. Such a happy smile.

“Will you touch me?”

“I am touching you.” A fingertip ran up to her temple, then a knuckle ran down. “I don’t know… I can’t tell what it is you want.”

 _Just you_ , she thought. But he did look a little lost for a second, and how could he not? It had always been so easy before, but he couldn’t make her say what she desired. “And what do _you_ want?” He blinked. “See? It’s the same for me. You will get used to it, I promise.”

“Used…?”

There was no answer but to show him, show him she wasn’t just scratching an itch, show him she wanted him for more than a night. She only needed time, and that… was something she didn’t want to think about in that moment. And so, she took his hand in hers, and brought it down, down, down between her legs, right where her thighs met. His eyes grew round and he didn’t dare move at first, but she encouraged him. He followed her lead at first, let her guide him, all the while focused on her face, her reactions. Soon enough, he gained confidence, his fingers were just there, just right; his entire body bent over her, skin to skin, and she kept one hand over his and the other in his hair and she had to close her eyes when it became too much.

She stretched after a while, languid and happy, careful not to dislodge him. “Chloe?”

“Hmm.” She opened her eyes. He was flushed, breathing heavily, his hair a mess. She scratched his scalp a bit and he closed his eyes, head bending forward to rest on her collarbone. “I like your hands,” she said. She felt him huff a laugh, short warm breaths skittering on her skin. Then a kiss, two, five, climbing back up to her lips when she cupped his skull more firmly. He was a bit more frantic, a bit wilder; and so she put their still joined hands around him and he almost fell on her, catching himself just before crushing her.

“Now, you show me,” she said; and he did.

 

It was early morning when she woke up. She was facing the big windows, and the growing light had pulled her out of sleep. She raised her head from his chest and looked at him. He smiled at her, his fingertips dancing all along her spine.

“Hello,” she said and winced. Her voice sounded all raspy, but it only made his smile widen.

“Hello. Slept well?”

“Mmm. Oh, did I spend the night like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like…” She waved a hand at herself, sprawled over him from head to toe. “…that.”

“You did.”

“But I’m heavy!”

“You’re light as a feather, love.”

“Uh huh. You’d know.” She slid down to the mattress, and he turned on his side to face her. “What with having some yourself.”

He rolled onto his back, away from her. “I didn’t ask for them.”

“Lucifer…” She rested her palm on his stomach, drew slow, wide circles. “Are you that angry to have them back?”

“I don’t know what my father wants. I still don’t know what happened.”

“Are you still angry he made me possible?”

He jerked his head to stare at her. “Chloe…”

“If you can accept me, why not them? You won’t find anyone to cut them off again anyway. No one will do it.”

He blew out a long breath. “I know. I’m just…” _You’re lost_ , she thought. Afraid, perhaps. Who wouldn’t be, with a father such as his?

“Have you talked about it with Linda?” She inched closer to him, slipped a leg between his.

“She says… she says I am who I am. She says once I am myself, it will be easier.” He sighed. “I don’t know what that means.”

“You know what it means.”

“I am the devil.”

“Among other things.”

“What else can I be?”

“Can you… be the devil, right now?” She gestured at her face.

“Chloe…”

“Humor me.” he hesitated still, until she kissed his forehead. “Please.”

With a sigh, he complied. “See? One Satan, ready to punish the damned.”

“You don’t always look the same.”

“What?”

“You don’t always look the same. Sometimes you look more scarred than others. Sometimes it looks like the burns are less severe. Have you ever taken a good look at yourself?”

His skin turned back to his more human-like shade. “Not in a long time. What’s the point?”

“I think maybe it depends on your moods, on your needs. You could probably control it, you know.”

“I already do.”

“You just switch it on and off, you don’t control your appearance.”

He curled a bit closer to her, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Any other wise words, o smartest of Detectives?”

 _What do you look like with your wings while you’re all deviled out? Will you let me kiss you, then? Can you kiss me again, right now?_ “Why did you change your name?”

His face closed off and he sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her. “Don’t.”

“Your brother once let it slip you had another one. What is it?”

“I don’t use it anymore. Please.”

“Why did you choose Lucifer, then?”

“I didn’t really choose it. It’s… more of a title.”

“A title?”

“What I was.” He was silent, for a long minute. “Lightbringer. I was the Lightbringer. I am not anymore, but at least I am not… what I was before.”

“What were you, before?” He shook his head, and she knelt on the bed. “You can’t ignore the past. It won’t go away.”

“Please…”

“You can’t ignore the present, either.”

At that, he raised his head to look out of the window to the blue blue sky beyond. “The present?”

“There is still light in you.”

“Chloe – ”

“Your wings glow in the dark.”

At that, he turned back to her. “No.”

“Yes. Well, maybe in the daylight too. Want to give it a try?” She slid off the bed and went to stand in front of him, naked and without fear. Why would she be afraid? The devil was also her archangel, made whole again. Not even his divinity would hurt her. She could almost feel the sunlight on her skin. Around her. “Show me. Show us.”

He took her hands between his, rested his forehead on their joined fingers. “All right,” he whispered.

The air shimmered behind him and – here they were. “Tell me,” he said into her palms.

“They make the morning look like night,” she answered. They gave off light indeed – not a blinding light, but a light that warmed and enveloped and raised the spirits, too. No mere sun could compare to the original.

“Oh.” He twitched his shoulders and the feathers rustled, then slowly went back to a pure, simple white that didn’t outshine the stars.

He looked back up at her. “So I am still that, too.”

“You are many things. You can be all of them at the same time, if you want to.” His eyes turned red, and the wings spread a bit more. “You don’t have to choose.”

He finally stood up and went to stand by the window, one hand still in hers. “I was born Samael,” he told her reflection. “Poison of god. Meant to enforce his will.” She shuddered. “I will not ever be _that_ again.”

“You don’t have to be. You only belong to yourself.”

“Not only,” he told her reflection.

 _We fit. Somehow, we fit,_ _sharp edges and all_ _._ “Same here,” she said.

He smiled.

 


End file.
